River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1887-07-14
THE NEW SOUTH.

| Nui thtIutiS SoliS W NcN OiAN"uS
They had, oddly enough, the alert, ex
pectant air of explorers into an I'M
known country. The men looked out
on the sleepy streets of Alexandra
with as critical eyes as if it had been its
namesake in Egypt, and the women
buttoned their tight ulsters more close
ly, and slung their alligator satchels t.
their sides in readiness for any emer-
gency.
They were intelligent people of the
class who have leisure; they were ia
miliar with the upper range of States
many of them ran over To Europe or TO
California every summer. But this
three-cornered segment of their coun-
try, which had climate, history, and
character of its own, was foreign To
them as Arabia Felix.
Il was in the South thirty years
ago. said one fidgety old gentleman.
Visited college found in eastern
Virginia. Queer life! Great scramb-
ling house in large plantation.
crowded with guests; leaky roof. mag
nificent old family plate, patched ear
pets, negroes swarming everywhere.
Saddled horses hitched always by the
door i'm case YOU wanted To cross IA
field. Old families. each with its coat
of arms and pride of birth. The most
generous. unmethodical, kindly people in
tn, world.
The old gentleman in his enthusiasm
took off his silk travclling-cap, letting
the cold wind blow over his bald head
with its fringe of gray hair. His wife
"a pudgy. prim little wOman-replaced
il with, You forget, my dearr'
"Yes. yes. forget I'm a broken
down old invalid when | think of those
days. 1t makes me lad again to get
into the South, turning to his listening
neighbors. I've been pastor of II
church in western New York for forty
years, YOU see. Never took IA holiday.
Some chronic trouble set in last fall,
and the doctors said-Europe. Ny
people raised the money at once. But
said. I'll go South and rest. No
A@htOHt III " hN Eft1AAtiitDs III
all the drive and struggle of those forty
years the remembrance OF the leisure
and quiet, the laziness if you like, of
the South has come before me like a
glimpse of the Isles of the BEST Life
there is not all mOney-getting. They
take it as they go"
His companions listened to the eager
talk of the garrulous old fellow with
asserting mods and smiles, he being one
of those people to whom the world in
in all If its humors says YES and smiles.
But they did not all agree with him.
Having the usual large careless good
humor of the American, they had no
lingering grudge or bitterness against
the South because of the war But it
was alien to them, as it had always
been; they were men whose occupations
AMI thoughts ran IN fixed and narrow
ruts. and like the great mass of average
Nor'hernerS they knew the South only
through long-ago recOllectiOns or hear
say traditions. Ii was in their minds a
vague tropical stretch of sugar and cotton
and rice field, peopled by indolent,
arrogant men and naughty, languid
women. their feet still firmly set on the
neoks of the negro race.
The names of the stations, too. began
to recall the fact that they were in
ouce hostile country, and among "A
people who had been their foe. As the
conductor shouted "Fairfax," MAN
asSaS, 'Culpcpper, they looked out
eagerly AT the snOw-covered fields and
the implanted wooden station-hOuses
which replaced the brick Queen Anne
villas affected by Northern railways,
to find something novel and
foreign.
A pursy young man from Chicago
was superciliously calling attention to
the worm-fences. the lean fields, the
forlorn houses, as
''Wretchedly poor, sir. Now there
is really no excuse for such poverty.
Even grant that the State was laid
waste by the war. All that was twenty
years ago. Twenty years is enough
for any man to get upon his legs again.
ut is all due TO lack of energy de-
cisively said close-shaven, trig little
iron-master from Pennsylvania. 1--WE
all know the South. Some of the best
books i'm American literature are de-
scriptions of these people. Did you
ever read Uncle Toms Cabin or A Fools
Errand? They show you that more
indolent, incapable, pig-headed race
never breathed. The men spend their
time in idling. duelling, and drinking.
The women are merely lovely, helpless
babies.
Mr.. Ely. the old clergyman, with an
indignant snort, gir,led himself to make
battle; but at that moment the train
stopped in the suburbs of Charlottesville.
Steep streets ran up into the picturesque
town. back of whose peaked roofs rose
the snowy hills. A crowd of students
from the University filled the platform.
An elderly man, after much hand
shaking with them, entered the car.
"Hello!" said Mr.. Ely; "surely |
know that face. Sarah? Except for
the bald head-'He bristled up. 81
beg pardon. 1t is "A long time ago.
But are YOU not Wollaston PogueP |
am James Ely. Don't you remember?
| visited the Medills in Accomac in '55,
and you"
BLESS my soul! Ofcourse remem-
Der. Why, my dear sir, am glad to
see you back in Virginia. And how
has the world used you in all these
years?'
"Well, well! roughly enough" said
Ely, with a sigh. file had, in fact, a
comfortable home, and until lately
sound health, yet as the two men sat
side by side, it was the anxious.
lean Northerner who most looked like
the victim of destructive war The
Virginian was a stout, ruddy, over
grown boy. Prosperity apparently
Oozed out Of every pore. from the red
fringe of hair about his shining pate to
his beaming specialized eyes, and the
gurgling laugh of pure enjoyment that
dubbed out every minute.
"Changes?" he said, rubbing his
knees meditatively, as Ely piled him
with questions. "Oh, great changes!
Necessarily. The houses in which you
visited have all passed from the old
families except the Grange. That is
a place of summer resort, kept by Mrs.
Leigh.
Not that lovely Anna Page who
married Joe Leigh?'
The very same. Beautiful as a
dream, wasn't she? But she is making
H.